


War (but Without the Murder)

by heatherchandler (red_handedjill)



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexuality, Canon-Typical Misogyny, F/F, F/M, Heather Duke appreciation story tbh, Multi, Polyamory, also poly ship appreciation story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_handedjill/pseuds/heatherchandler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica flirting with her best friends is not something Heather Duke is fucking here for. And neither is Veronica's boyfriend's existence. — chandlmawyer, jdansaw, chansaw, mcnamawyer, jdonica, chandlmara, trenchcoatscrunchie</p>
            </blockquote>





	War (but Without the Murder)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: textsfromwesterburg.tumblr.com/post/115312548878/were-back-hooray

Heather likes to tell herself it starts innocently enough. She knows a Slurpee and a boy in a trenchcoat (even though it was at least 85 degrees out, seriously, what is his damage?) and a girl without any makeup on are all innocent things.

In hindsight, maybe the girl making seduction at eyes at the almighty Heather and buying the other Heather a Slurpee was not all that innocent.

* * *

At first, trenchcoat boy (aka Mr. I Didn’t Throw It, like that’s supposed to make him sound cool) talks to Heather almighty. He smiles (or she thinks that’s the closest shape his mouth makes to one) at her and his eyes flick up and down her body. Heather can hear him flirt and she swears there’s something sexual but Heather doesn’t slap him so she must be wrong.

(Shut up Heather!)

But Heather isn’t surprised when she sees her best friend offer him her best smile before flipping him off.

“Bye, Felica,” she mutters under her breath.

(How very.)

Then his girlfriend (?) tries. Heather, surprisingly, doesn’t hate it. There’s hands and fingers on a jawline and batted eyelashes.

Heather, however, is not here for this shit.

She’s really not here for it when Heather is tapping away at the girl’s phone.

“Oh, hell no,” she growls.

* * *

The next time she sees trenchoat boy, he’s got the girl under his arm and she’s even more confused.

(“Polyamory, Heather. God, you’re such a pillowcase.”)

It’s a split second and the girl catches her eye. Then she winks and Heather wants to strangle her stupid neck.

Instead she spends lunch searching for the right meme to post on her Instagram to let the girl know she is not dating Heather. Ever.

* * *

Unfortunately, the girl takes Heather’s meme as a fucking challenge. And not even the kind that at least helps some poor starving children or cure AIDs. It’s more like the kind of “if you think I can’t fuck one of your friends, watch me fuck them both” (except, as sexual as  _Heather_ is, Heather is asexual) challenge.

Heather is tipped off around the point when the girl—Veroni _ca,_  according to Heather, Roni according to Heather, hoe-bag slut-face according to her—starts smiling at Heather. And then she approaches Heather.

(Heather is not at all surprised when Heather cracks her knuckles at the sight.)

“My boyfriend—” if Heather wasn’t busy hating her, she might have smirked at being right “—and I were wondering if you wanted to, like, try a date with us later?”

“Oh, I would lo—I mean, I wish I could but Heather and I have plans already. Sorry,” the blonde smiles.

Heather smirks and it practically screams “fight me” at Veronica.

* * *

Trenchcoat boy (who finally fucking introduces himself, JD is his name and she thinks it’s only suiting for a douchenozzle like him to have a douchey name) approaches Heather again. There’s less snarling on her behalf but still not a phone number for him.

Heather thinks she’d be satisfied if it weren’t for her best friend checking him out as he left to find Veronica.

* * *

Heather is at least a little surprised when she finds Heather and Heather kissing at the mall but not really. It’s an awkward conversation (and by conversation, she means Heather just threatens her and Heather acts like a puppy) but it’s whatever.

Besides, she thinks it’s at least confirmation that Veronica and JD don’t have a shot with either Heather.

She may or may not post a celebratory group selfie.

She knows she’s posted too soon when she sees Heather twirling her hair and giggling at Veronica and Heather drawing patterns on JD’s pathetic excuse for arms (okay, fine, biceps). What fucking assholes.

And then Veronica smiles sweetly at her and gives her a peace sign.

If Heather wouldn’t yell at her for it, she’d cut that biotch.

“This means war, Veronica.”

(Even if that war is passive aggressive cyberstalking.)

* * *

All it takes to get Veronica’s phone number is snapping a nude to some junior. Heather would be proud if she knew. Or she would tell her to shut up.

_Stop talking to my friends_

_I’m guessing this is Heather_

_Unless you’re talking to anyone else’s friends. Whore._

_Ask nicely and I’ll consider it_

_Stop talking to my friends!_

_That wasn’t nicely_

_STOP TALKING TO MY FRIENDS_

_Then get ugly ones?_

Heather may or may not scream into her pillow for ten minutes about that.

Hint: she definitely does.

* * *

After that, Heather starts obsessively checking her Instagram feed. She always double taps the photos of Heather and Heather being almost grossly cute. She’s only mildly disgusted when she sees JD and Veronica tagged in a photo on Heather’s Instagram in what is clearly a date with the caption “Quelle surprise.” She’s ready to bash someone’s head in when she sees a photo of what is very clearly three girls holding hands on JD’s account.

“Of course that bitch watches Game of Thrones,” she grumbles when she sees it.

It’s sickening, honestly, a picture of Heather and Heather kissing Veronica. The worst part?

The caption says “And the Iron Throne goes to…”

The bitch just had to ruin her favorite book.


End file.
